


Time for Plan F?

by FridaysChild



Category: DCU, DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-23
Updated: 2011-09-23
Packaged: 2017-10-23 23:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FridaysChild/pseuds/FridaysChild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the Tim/Kon meme prompt "Dick gets it into his head that Tim and Kon *HAVE* to hook up (maybe cause he sees Tim being all skulky when Kon's not around or something). Cue Dick attempting to set the two up."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time for Plan F?

So it’s not like Dick didn’t notice that Tim was a wreck the whole year that Superboy was dead or whatever. Okay, at the time he thought it was a friendly thing. He’d be pretty bummed out if Wally or Roy was dead, too, although he’s fairly sure he’d respond differently than Tim.

But lately Tim’s been getting more and more - well, Tim doesn’t do despondent, exactly, but something like - as the week wears on. He perks up again on Friday and is generally out the door like a rocket once it’s time for him to leave. It doesn’t take Bruce’s level of detective skills to figure out he’s missing someone and really looking forward to seeing them again.

Which wouldn’t be enough to pinpoint it as a crush on Superboy in particular, except lately the number of times Tim mentions him in any given conversation is increasing exponentially.

So he’s pretty sure Tim’s got a little crush on Superboy. Dick approves of this and starts making plans to set them up. As long as Superboy doesn’t get himself killed again, he’d be really good for Tim, as Dick often thinks Tim needs to lighten up. He thinks the same thing about Bruce, only he would never dare try to set Bruce up with anyone. Tim has the same temperament but Dick can get away with it - older brother’s prerogative.

So he urges Tim to invite over one of his friends for dinner at Dick’s place. Then he has Wally call him with a manufactured emergency of the personal variety and leaves them alone. Except maybe he didn’t think that one through all that hard because it’s not like they probably don’t have alone time at the Tower, and he comes back to find them watching his DVDs with not a trace of guilt on their faces.

Plan B involves orchestrating them getting locked in a closet on a mission. He’s sure Tim could figure out how to arrange that in all of five minutes; it takes him closer to a day. Plan B proves fruitless, however; he knows because they never turn their communicators off, and no one can possibly be that quiet their first time. He’s pretty sure nothing happens after they get back, either, because he doesn’t get any irate phone calls from Martha Kent about Conner missing curfew.

Plans C, D, and E, which are increasingly more elaborate, also go nowhere. He’s pretty sure, anyway. And if swapping Tim’s Red Robin gear for something subtly tighter - which is a trick in itself, really - just before the weekend didn’t work, he’s got nothing.

Which finds him in the cave, out of plans. Dick groans, burying his face in his arms. Tim’s one of the smartest and most perceptive people he knows - genetics or not, he’s Bruce’s son, all right. But he has a huge blind spot when it comes to the most personal matter in his life. Superboy’s lack of perception is barely worth mentioning.

“Grayson,” Damian is currently using what Dick has labeled “condescending tone number seven,” which is the one where he’s concurrently baffled at the behavior of the person he’s addressing. “Just because you can’t get into Oracle’s pants anymore is no reason to sulk.”

Dick groans. “I’m not trying to get into Oracle’s pants. I’m trying to get Tim into Superboy’s pants. Or vice-versa, I’m not picky.”

Damian’s eyebrow twitches. “Grayson, remember that mission Drake went on with the Titans about three months ago? They all got stuck in Alaska for a week or something.” Damian has slipped into condescending tone number two, which is the one where he’s also amused.

“Uh, yeah?” Dick has the sudden sinking feeling that he missed something vital.

“They’ve been fucking since then. You know, right about the time when Drake started getting all moony during the week?” Dick debates whether to threaten to wash his mouth out with soap, decides even threatening to do so is way more trouble than it’s worth.

“How do you know?” Dick feels defensive for some reason. Trained by the world’s greatest detective, right, that’s why.

“I went through Drake’s backpack the other day. No one carries that many condoms unless they’re getting laid on a regular basis. Not to mention all of the other stuff that was in his bag. I'm fairly sure Drake's just screwing with you at this point."

Dick feels kind of horrified. “How do you know-“ he starts before he stops himself. No, he really doesn’t want to know where Damian got his sex education. “Don’t go through Tim’s things,” he says instead. “So we can skip the whole birds and the bees talk?”

Damian smirks. “Yes, let’s please.”


End file.
